


Projection

by Soleya



Series: Fifty First Dates [6]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:13:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28539408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soleya/pseuds/Soleya
Summary: Fifty First Dates.  “I just mean… this is a lot.  This is….  Everything’s changed, and it’s… isn’t it weird for you?  At least a little?”
Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Carter/Jack O'Neill
Series: Fifty First Dates [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1707853
Comments: 22
Kudos: 72





	Projection

Jack was dragging his heels, and he knew it. Every step closer to Carter’s porch was a step closer to a decision point, and he wasn’t sure what to do. Dinner had gone better than he’d ever dreamed – she’d laughed at his jokes, told him stories from her time at the Academy, and brushed his hand a few times. She’d even taken his arm on the way back to his truck. But that didn’t mean she was ready for more. She’d been engaged less than a month ago. Her father had _died_ less than a month ago. This would be a seismic shift between them.

And he was terrified to screw it up.

She beat him up the steps, her perfect red dress somehow even more alluring in the shadows, and dug for her keys. “Coffee?” she asked.

“Sounds good,” he said. If only because it gave him more time to make a decision. He was almost positive he could get away with a kiss and 60/40 on getting more. But Carter’s MO when she was uncomfortable was to duck and run, and that would make for a catastrophic ending to the night.

But coffee was good, right? Inviting him in was good. And she smiled at him in the darkness before she headed further into the house and toed off her heels. There was something unbelievably hot about that – about wearing a sexy dress barefoot while she went about ordinary tasks. She pulled the coffee out of the cabinet, and he almost missed a step.

Was coffee actually supposed to mean _coffee_? It never had before. Then again, he’d never dated a woman like Carter. Maybe to her, coffee actually meant coffee.

Maybe it meant _only_ coffee.

And he was stuck again.

He was standing awkwardly in no man’s land, the piece of carpet that was neither in the kitchen nor the living room nor the entry hall, and she gave him an amused grin. “Make yourself at home.”

“Thanks.” He headed for the couch, just to put his back to her for a moment while the coffee maker spat and spluttered. Not only had he dropped to about 50/50 on getting lucky, the odds she wanted him to kiss her had dropped a few points, too. Jack’s fingers rapped against his thigh, anxious.

His best bet was to play it safe. Drink his coffee, tell her he had a good time, kiss her on the cheek, and leave. It would be hellishly disappointing, but it would be so much better to leave her wanting more than to overstep, wouldn’t it?

Wouldn’t it?

_No_ , the voice below his belt answered, and Jack shifted a little. That meant the answer was yes, obviously, because that part of him rarely had good ideas.

The clink as Carter set his mug on the glass end table made him start a little, and she raised an eyebrow as she settled onto the couch beside him. Not at the other end, but directly beside. “You okay over there?” she asked, obviously amused at his discomfort.

Her cup had ended up on the other end table, out of reach, he noticed. And she sat twisted toward him, one elbow up on the back of the couch.

He could kiss her. She definitely wanted to be kissed.

Probably. Chickening out, Jack brushed a piece of hair out of her face, letting his fingers linger on her skin. “You look beautiful tonight.”

Her gorgeous blue eyes sparkled with her smile. “Thank you.”

He let his fingers wander – through the hair behind her ear, down her graceful neck. He wanted so badly to slide his hand behind her head and pull her close, but his hand just wouldn’t cooperate.

“Jack.”

It was the first time she’d used his name all night – she’d carefully avoided calling him anything at all – and it brought his gaze immediately to hers. “Yeah?”

With a grin, she asked, “Are you gonna kiss me at any point?”

Well, then. A smile tugged at his lips, too, as he admonished, “Don’t rush me.”

“Okay. I guess I’ll just… actually drink my coffee. Or something,” she chuckled. But it was out of reach, and she slid over half a cushion toward the end table.

Jack tried to follow but overestimated how far she was going to move. He didn’t miss the way she sucked in a breath when his chest brushed up against her back. Or the fact that she wasn’t reaching for her coffee anymore. When she turned into him, her mouth was just inches from his, and he couldn’t resist anymore. Tenderly, lovingly, he pressed his lips to hers.

“Mm,” she sighed happily, smiling against his lips as the kiss ended.

“Mm?” he mocked.

“Mm,” she confirmed. And she kissed him again. And again, suckling his lower lip between hers. She shifted closer, her knee crossed over his as her arms slid around his neck.

Her skin was smooth and perfect under his hands, her lips warm and inviting, and so it took every ounce of Jack’s self-control to pull back. Even then, his forehead stayed glued to hers, their noses touching as he murmured, “We don’t have to rush this.”

“I know.” She kissed him again, edging closer.

“I mean it.”

“I know you do.” Her fingers drifted past his ribs and to his back, pulling him in as they kissed again.

Reaching behind him, he carefully took her wrist and disentangled her, gaining distance. “No, really, I mean it. This is a big step, and I don’t want you to feel like I’m pushing into something you’re not ready for.”

It was her turn to sit back, completely disconnecting herself, a decidedly displeased look on her face. “Not ready for? Don’t patronize me. I’m forty,” she said flatly.

“I’m not being…. I’m not trying to be patronizing,” he defended, not quite sure how his romantic gesture had turned into an ice bath. “I just mean… this is a lot. This is…. Everything’s changed, and it’s… isn’t it weird for you? At least a little?”

At least she didn’t look pissed anymore. She looked perplexed. “What’s weird about it?”

_Everything_. “I dunno. I just….” Apparently he was alone in that feeling. “I just thought it might be an adjustment, is all. I guess I’m… I dunno, projecting or something.”

“Projecting _what_?” she pressed, irked.

Oh, man, he’d been all ready to talk about _her_ feelings, but _his_ were something completely different. Jack O’Neill wasn’t a _feelings_ kind of guy. “It’s just, uh….” For cryin’ out loud, he was stammering like Daniel. “I mean, I’ve spent a decade trying to keep my hands off you, and now we’re…. And it’s….”

“Weird.”

“Yes.”

“Huh.”

Jack had lived half a century without ever having a conversation quite as awkward as this one. He should have been ripping her clothes off, and instead she was staring at him like he’d just grown a second nose. Annoyed with himself and not entirely sure how to salvage the situation, he cleared his throat and edged away a little bit, squaring his body to the couch. She didn’t move, still turned toward him, and he could feel her eyes burning into the side of his face. And damn, was it uncomfortable.

He’d blown it. He’d blown it entirely, and he scrubbed his hands over his face before slumping against the back of the couch, eyes closed. “Sorry. Uh…. This isn’t, uh….”

It was quiet for one humiliating moment before he heard her ponder, “So… _this_ is… weird….”

Jack didn’t know quite what that meant until her hand landed on his chest and curled, her fingernails raking along the fabric of his shirt as she slid her hand downward. The muscles under her fingers clenched, making his breath puff out audibly.

And she wasn’t playing around; she didn’t stop the movement until her fingers ran into his belt. Her voice low and sultry, she asked, “Is _this_ weird?” as she popped the lowest button of his shirt, then the one above that, and slid her hand inside to his bare skin, drawing shapes low on his stomach.

Yeah, it was weird. He felt like a lascivious, lusty old man, but God, he wanted her. All he could manage were shallow breaths under her touch. And then she moved, brushing against his right thigh… and then his left, as her weight settled into his lap. Surprised, he glanced up to find her looking down at him with a mischievous grin. Her fingers wrapped around his hands from behind, lifting them to press firmly against the outsides of her knees. She slid them along her skin, dragging her skirt with them until his fingers found her bare ass. Her hands fell away; his stayed. He didn’t know if he consciously meant to or not, but he gave the muscles there a squeeze.

It made her laugh. “Weird, right?” she taunted, but her lips captured his before he could respond. It was different – demanding – and she didn’t stay there long, nipping her way down his jawline. Swamped in pleasure, his head fell back against the couch to give her better access to his neck and to the ear she suckled with abandon. He answered with a groan.

“Do you want me to stop?” she breathed in his ear.

“Oh, hell, no.” It was hoarse.

He’d never heard her laugh like that, low and throaty. It was a sound that belonged in the bedroom, for sure, and he filed the memory away as her fingers popped the button at his neck, then the next one, confidently working their way down. He should _do_ something, he knew – participate somehow beyond gluing his hands to her ass – but her seduction was so far beyond his wildest dreams that all he could do was revel in it, head back and eyes closed as she nibbled and licked and sucked her way from his neck to his clavicle to his sternum. Slipping from his lap, she parted his knees and knelt between them, her mouth continuing its way down.

He managed – barely – to rock his head forward to watch her as she sat back on her heels. The romantic part of his brain was screaming for him to stop her, to carry her to the bedroom and take her clothes off, but his neurons short circuited as she reached for his belt and inadvertently brushed his erection through his jeans. Surely – _surely –_ she wasn’t about to give him head on their first date. Maybe that was why he didn’t stop her as she tugged the ends of his belt free – because he was certain she had something else in mind. Maybe he didn’t stop her as she ran the zipper down as a dare. Maybe he didn’t stop her, even as she freed his length from his jeans and licked her lips, because he was one hundred percent certain she wouldn’t actually do it.

Her tongue darted out and flicked at his tip, engorged and incredibly sensitive, and the room went hazy as pleasure overtook him. The groan that escaped sounded like it had sort of kind of meant to be words… except that he was way too far gone for that. Samantha Carter was giving him oral on her couch on their first date, and there was absolutely no brain power left for anything else. She took him in her mouth, deep, and it stole his breath away. His fingers gripped the cushions beneath him as she moved, the sensations of it radiating through his stomach and out until his toes tingled.

God, she was incredible. She didn’t stop even when his fingers landed in her hair and fisted of their own volition. Even as the muscles in his thighs began to tremble. She would stop before he came, of course, because their first time would be _together_ , and not just her getting him off. Of course she would stop.

Then again, he’d been certain she wouldn’t do this at all. His belly coiled tight and he pushed her shoulders away, gasping as the cool air hit his hot skin. Undaunted, she reached for him, and he bobbled for a moment until he had both of her wrists safely in his hands, her arms held in front of her chest to keep her back. Eyes closed, for a moment all he could do was breathe and try to pull himself back from the brink. Leaning down to press his temple to hers, he murmured, “There is no universe where our first time together ends this way.”

Tipping her chin up so her hot breath brushed his ear, she murmured, “Then you’d better get your ass in gear. Sir.”

He grunted at her – both because she had a point and because he’d dreamed about her calling him ‘sir’ in bed a million times. And then he shoved the coffee table away as he pushed her to her back on the floor, sliding down between her thighs. He would have returned the favor she’d just done, but he didn’t have anywhere to move with the couch just beyond his bent legs, so he kissed her, instead, trapping her lower lip between his teeth before soothing it with his lips. He repeated the movement as she slid his shirt off his shoulders and he ditched it, one arm at a time. His pants were just gonna have to stay put halfway down his ass, because he wasn’t about to waste time on his shoes.

Carter planted a foot solidly in the carpet, and before he knew it, Jack was on his back on the floor, her toned thighs on either side of his hips. “Oh, is this how we’re playing it?” he murmured against her mouth.

“Yeah.” It was her turn to nibble at his lips before she rose above him, reaching behind herself for the zipper at her back. Rapt, Jack watched her as his fingers slid up her thighs and under her skirt again. He wanted more – _needed_ more – and he pushed the dress up to her waist. She caught it there and tugged it over her head, revealing an incredibly sexy black and red lace bra and a barely-there g-string.

“You had a plan,” he managed, though speech was difficult when all the blood had left his brain for other places.

“I always have a plan,” she told him, “and I’m done waiting.”

Deft fingers slid the g-string out of the way. And she took him in. Jack couldn’t suppress a moan at the delicious sensation of her, but he managed to keep his gaze on her to watch as her eyes rolled back and shut, blissful. She took all of him, pausing for a moment that way before she rose and sank into him again. He thrust his hips up to meet her that time, eliciting a sharp cry as her eyes flew open in surprise, and he stilled. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, that was good,” she breathed. “That was really good. Do that again.”

He happily obliged, taking the hand she held out for balance as she set a smooth rhythm. She was so perfectly tight and hot around him, so beautiful above him. He was pretty sure the sounds she was making alone could drive a man over the edge, and he slipped a finger between her thighs, relishing when her cries rose half an octave. It wasn’t long before her abs went tight and she curled into herself, desperately close, and he watched the ecstasy spread across her face just milliseconds before her body squeezed and rippled around him and he lost the ability to see anything at all. He reveled in the orgasm, head back, eyes closed. Her chest pressed against his as she melted, her face in his neck, and Jack used the last tiny bit of his energy to wrap his arms around her incredible body.

“Mmm,” she murmured between gasps for air.

“Mmm,” he answered, lower.

He let her come down from the top, safe and warm in his arms. Only once her breathing had evened out and she’d tipped her head further into his shoulder did he say, “Well, this is awkward.”

“Do _not_ start that again,” she muttered into his skin.

“No, I mean it. My ankles are stuck under your couch and that facia board has no padding.”

It took a moment. He felt her abs contract first, then her lips turn up. Her laugh came out as a snort that only made her laugh harder. Jack couldn’t help but grin, too, grateful for the pain; he wasn’t sure he’d believe the last ten minutes were real otherwise. “Can we move this shindig to a bed or something?”

“Mmm.” Shifting up a bit, she caught his lips with hers, and they moaned together as her hips lifted and he slipped out of her. Untangling herself from his legs and the couch, Carter got to her feet and pulled Jack up beside her.

He caught her face – tender this time – and kissed her softly. “I love you.”

“Don’t do that yet. Save the mushy stuff for later.”

That might have worried him but for the sparkle in her eyes and the devilish grin on her lips. “We’re still having fun, huh?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.”

Oh, she was gonna kill him. But he was gonna die a happy man. “Okay, then.” Crouching, he wrapped his arms around her thighs and tossed her over his shoulder, relishing in the shriek of laughter that elicited. “To the bedroom!”

“Put me down!” she laughed.

“You really want me to?”

“No.”

“Didn’t think so.” Giving her ass a playful smack, he carried her off to bed.


End file.
